


Better in the Morning

by wimblydonner



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wimblydonner/pseuds/wimblydonner
Summary: It's Saturday morning, and Quistis has nowhere to be except Xu's bed.





	

For once Quistis is woken not by the harsh bleats of her alarm clock, always ringing far too soon, but by soft light through the lavender curtains. She's able to lay there for a moment, simply feeling the curve of her wife's belly beneath her arms and their legs tangled together beneath the covers, before she has to _think_. What's going on today? What she does have to do?

It's Saturday, she remembers. When the mad scramble to get ready and drive to work is replaced by a leisurely slog to the armchair. When the bland oatmeal quickly shoveled down her throat becomes a rich and delicious brunch. When grading and answering e-mail in the office gives way to nothing more pressing than a cup of coffee and a crossword puzzle. 

In fact, a day this lazy and indulgent needs to be _celebrated_. They shouldn't merely avoid work; they should _flaunt_ it. It was their solemn weekend duty to spoil themselves as much as possible, to spend their time on only the least productive pastimes. 

Quistis scoots closer to Xu, spooning her even tighter. Marriage is making her soft. Instead of hitting the books, these days she just wants to lie ensconced in blankets and pillows, feeling her wife's body rise and fall against hers, one breath after another. 

She nudges the curve of Xu's hip—and, oh, Hyne, does Xu have _curves_. "You awake?" 

"Not awake enough to think." Her wife's voice comes out earthy and monotone, like some primordial force that has not yet shaped itself into orderly creation. Morning is when they are at their most primal, when civilization has not yet made its daily descent upon them and told them how to think and be. 

Quistis's hand falls on Xu's thigh, at the point where Xu's nightgown has rode up way too high to be appropriate anywhere outside the bedroom. "I wasn't suggesting we _think_ ," she says with a smirk. She draws her lips close to her wife's ear until the distance between them is almost imperceptible, two individuals growing more inseparable day by day. "Just that I might forget the oatmeal and eat your pussy instead." 

(And the other great part about being married? They can use all the corny come-ons they want and still be into each other.) 

Xu doesn't say anything, but just turns towards Quistis enough to clasp her cheek and pull her in for a kiss. The weight of Xu's body presses Quistis deeper into the mattress, pinning her between cover and pillows and wife. It's the dreamiest place to be. 

Morning sex is the best sex, Quistis has decided. What could demonstrate a greater commitment to fucking than resolving not to even bother get out of bed? They could take each other in while this day was still fresh and pure, before they'd been reminded of all their worldly problems and cares. She was well-rested enough for some marathon grinding, but still drowsy enough to forego any inhibitions about what might be too dirty for polite society. 

She rolls Xu onto her back and crawls on top of her. Let the weekend begin.


End file.
